


Teach Her A Lesson

by haveyoutriedguest



Series: Exposure [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Breaking and Entering, Curse Breaking, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-07-28 22:18:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20071507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haveyoutriedguest/pseuds/haveyoutriedguest
Summary: In the wake of Ginny's exposure, things go from bad to worse.





	Teach Her A Lesson

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to 'We Have A Winner' but I feel like you could read it without. Also, this could get very, very wrong and very dark. I mean the tags/warnings (more will be added as I become clearer on exact details). Obviously, no one endorses this stuff in real life.

_Three days ago, the country was gripped by a scandal that is not known the like of for decades. A scandal of such sordid magnitude, the likes of fit may never be seen again. Ginny Weasley was already famous as the childhood sweetheart and later wife of Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. Weasley, 25, runs a RealPic page (conventionally used by Muggles for the widespread circulation of photos) that, until three days ago, was deemed reasonably successful, on which she shared photos of herself (pictured above). Her images were criticised by some wings as over sexualised and unbefitting of someone of her ancestry and and status. Weasley defended her position passionately and frequently. She caused a stir four nights ago when she posted this (left) picture, with a caption inviting fans to enter a prize draw, the winner of which would be offered sexual intercourse with Weasley herself. The image was shared far and wide, eventually going 'viral' (see end for notes). However, little more was heard about the offer until Tuesday morning, when the self-proclaimed winner of Weasley's competition, one Tobias McLaggen, aged 21. McLaggen posted instructions on his own page to reach a video he claimed would prove his involvement with Weasley. What was found, though many may not believe it, was a film lasting some hours, cut down somewhat to leave out long blank periods, in which viewers were able to watch, uncensored, what was apparently the promised intercourse between Weasley and McLaggen. Experts have since confirmed that the people in the video do, in fact, match their online profiles. What was released was genuine--_

Ginny dropped the newspaper. It slid across the table in the dark sitting room. Her own picture stared back from every angle: all those mentioned in the article plus one snapped just outside of her in almost non-existent shorts and a top that not so much advertised, as flaunted her unrestrained breasts. There were no pictures of the video, of course, but who needed them? Everyone had seen enough to confirm their own view. She had had to give up the internet the day before, she had weathered the screenshots and the articles. She had even coped with her own self-destructive habit of scrolling through the comments on various pornographic websites. But she had also been victim to some weird nutcase who seemed to predict her every move. The account, named on all platforms as '@SlutHunt', had pursued her everywhere. It had started off merely as name calling, something she could cope with. But the insults had become threats and she had had to stop. Words and phrases from various posts they had made still flashed before her eyes: "Tie you down... Make you scream for your mummy... you won't be able to walk for a week...

She ran her hands through her hair. The darkness was making her sleepy. It was still daylight but, as soon as she had blacked out the windows to keep the cameras out, her body seemed to have stopped obeying normal time. She rose, yawning, and headed upstairs, falling asleep almost as soon as she hit the mattress.

Not too far from her, a man who called himself Salazar was talking to a group. Salazar, like his comrades, always wore a mask. And this was not his real name. He had chosen it in allegiance with a historical figure of some repute. One who understood proper values. They all understood what their values were. They had been described online as ultra-conservative and as fascistic in their views. Also, in more demeaning corners, as prudes and freaks. Salazar didn't care. He knew, as did his comrades, that their aims were right and true. And whores like this Weasley harlot were exactly the kind of people to make an example of. Salazar stood before his colleagues and spoke. "...This slut, this girl, a pureblood girl, prostitutes herself for no other reason than her own self-gratification. And what do we say to such whoredom?" Everyone present hissed. "The aim of the Snakehead," he continued, "is, as everyone here knows, to stamp out this loose, liberal behaviour and return society to one of true pride, modesty, and justice. And that, my comrades, is what we shall be dealing tonight: justice..." The final word extended in to another hiss, echoed again throughout the room. "It is time." The men all rose. There were five of them plus Salazar himself. The group had, on occasion, been much larger. In cases where numbers were required: protests, demonstrations and the like, the group's representation had been many times more than those present tonight. And, of course, they employed members to run the social media page that had been chasing bitches like Weasley through the @SlutHunt campaign. She had made it easy, though. That filthy film attached to her filthy address. Those operating inside the ridiculous liberal law that had been imposed would never dare to interfere directly on the property. But the Snakehead was above such petty restrictions. Hence the small number of men present. Salazar needed the best. And these were the best. they would need no instruction and would act without mercy. Salazar made a sharp gesture and they all filed out.

They appeared, all five of them, out of nowhere. Salazar stalked toward the house, his allies in tow. Two split off in one direction, two in another. Salazar and his companion raised their wands and disillusionment charms fell on them. They slipped past the few vans, the hungry journalists sleeping within, and vaulted the garden fence. Each team knew that the others would be in place. They raised the amulets they were carrying, procured by a corrupt unspeakable from the ministry, and knelt. Bands of light, visible only to the carriers, burst from the amulets and arched over the house and met above. The beams slid slowly sideways like some great rotating cage. Where the rays trailed, the air seemed somewhat thinner. The enchantments most wizards used to protect their homes were broken. Salazar tapped the lock on the front door with his wand. They were in.

They had split up, not for the purpose of entry, but to develop multiple exit points. The front and back doors, as well as the largest window, all of which had been studied on plans ahead of time, were now all viable. They regrouped in the hall. Every face looked up the stairs. Salazar placed a foot on the bottom step and began to ascend.


End file.
